Oh Silver Moon
by H.A. Eris
Summary: I've heard of him, but then again, everyone has. He's the most talked about subject that McKinley has had in a long time. Walking down the hall this morning, trying to dodge the oncoming jocks, I heard so many rumors from the mouths passing by. 'Have you heard of him' they'd said, but no one really knows why Blaine Anderson transferred here.
1. Chapter 1

Hello everyone! So school's kinda been a pain in the ass lately, therefore I haven't exactly been updating as I should. If anyone's reading You're A Sight For Sore Eyes To See, I don't think I'll be continuing it unless there's a high demand for it or I get some more free time. As usual, my tumblr is **wendlabergmangabor** (yes, that _is_ a Spring Awakening reference) and you should totally follow me. Really. It's really fun.

Oh yeah and I don't own Glee or Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson, no matter what my mother tells me.

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Enjoy lovlies.

There was a loud bang.

I look up from my English notes, eyebrows furrowing as I see none other than Blaine Anderson walk into my classroom, looking confused and tired and grunting as he thrusts his crumpled schedule in the teacher's face.

I've heard of him, but then again, everyone has. He's the most talked about subject that McKinley has had in a long time. Walking down the hall this morning, trying to dodge the oncoming jocks, I heard so many rumors from the mouths passing by. _'Have you heard of him?'_ they'd said, _'He transferred here because he almost killed a teacher,' _or '_He got sent to juvie for beating up his parents,'_ and even, _'He used to live in a circus until he went mad and slaughtered his whole crew.'_

I'm a pretty smart guy, so I just dismissed the rumors completely, deciding that I should just stay away from Blaine Anderson no matter what his reasons were for transferring mid-semester. Besides, what would a guy like that do with me besides add on to the list of tortures I endure everyday?

So yes, I was surprised when I locked eyes with the bad-boy. As cliché as he was in his leather jacket and combat boots, I could feel a softness in his eyes as they bore into mine. Feeling my blush grow stronger, I try to look away, but then the curly haired boy smiles. A friendly smile, one I hadn't expected to see from him.

"Alright, Mr. Anderson, take a seat where ever you'd like. And next time, try to show up to class _on time_," the teacher tells him, looking him over and getting this disgusted look in her eye briefly before turning around and continuing to scribble on the board in her nearly-illegible writing.

I feel his gaze on me again, but instead of returning it, I simply look down. Why's he looking at me? Can he sense that I'm just the target at this school? What's he going to do? Why did he _smile_?

When he plops down in the empty chair next to mine, I flinch more violently than I probably should've.

"Didn't mean to scare you," he leans over to whisper, a somewhat cocky grin plastered on his face.

Up close, he was really damn attractive.

"'m sorry..." I whisper, inwardly slapping myself for how broken and quiet that sounded.

"Don't be sorry. It was kinda endearing."

What? What's he trying to pull?

"So, is this class usually boring as hell itself?" He asks.

Before I can stop myself, I let out a small laugh and reply with, "Last time I checked, hell isn't supposed to be boring. Quite the opposite actually."

"Oh, I didn't realize I was consulting with the expert of hell and heaven himself," Blaine replies playfully, which only causes me to roll my eyes and blush, looking down to try and hide my smile.

"I'm Blaine Anderson," he whispers, knocking his shoulder against mine. I feel electricity shoot through my arm.

"Kurt Hummel," I reply,biting my lip and looking up with a slight smile. Obviously I look over his face, gauging whether or not he's disgusted because he knows. Of course he knows. Everyone does. I don't exactly try to hide it and I'm as out as a sore thumb.

"Beautiful name," is all he says in response. I don't ignore the way he leans in closer or the glistening in his eyes as he smiles at me. His gorgeous honey colored eyes, might I add, that I bet would look absolutely beautiful to see first thing in the morning-

Stop it, Kurt. Not him.

I just ignore the comment. I can't play into this game. I know exactly what this is and I'm not some fool. So I just simply reply with a shrug as I say, "The class is fine. Easy, really. Mrs. Hattenburg drones on for a while, so everyone just kinda talks and texts," while trying to contain my stupid blush.

"Oh good. So that means that I should probably show up to class early so I can make sure to reserve my spot with you, right?"

Man, he's really determined.

"I guess..I mean...I don't...there aren't too many people who want to talk to me."

"Why not?"

Jesus. I really don't feel like getting into this right now.

"Just because of who I am." There. I'll leave it at that.

"Why?"

"I don't know...just because I don't exactly fit to their lifestyles,"

"Why?"

"Do you say anything other than that?" I snap, looking over and huffing out a breath as Blaine laughs.

"Ouch. The King bites," he smiles. Why is he smiling? "What exactly is your lifestyle, then? Since, you know, you don't confide to theirs."

I once again shrug, looking down and picking at a piece of paper in my binder, not exactly meeting his eyes. "I'm gay. Flamboyantly so, and that's it."

I didn't expect him to laugh. I didn't expect his laugh to be so gorgeous, either.

"Man, I know what you mean. Vagina is so gross," he wrinkles his nose, and yeah, I laugh at that.

"So..you're gay too, then?" I ask, just to be sure.

"Obviously. I've been watching you since I first walked into this room, Hummel,"

"Why?"

"Now who's the one asking that question?" Blaine asks playfully, knocking our shoulders together once more. He scoots in closer to me again, except this time I feel my heart speed up a little more than it should and I don't try to deny it. He's just...different than what I expected. He's nice and funny and charismatic. Definitely not some guy who'd beat his parents or join a circus.

There's a hand on my wrist. I look down, traveling my eyes up the arm and finding that Blaine wrapped his calloused fingers around my wrist in the most gentle way I can think he can manage. This causes me to smile, and not one of those flirty ones that I do sometimes. This is a full fledged grin, teeth and everything, which makes me self conscious and a little embarrassed.

"You know, if you're aiming to hold my hand, I think you're grabbing in the wrong spot," I whisper, keeping my eyes trained on his hand and watching as his thumb begins to trace along the skin below my wrist.

"I know," he states simply, a side of his mouth cocked up in a side smile. "Your skin's super soft."

I laugh, causing a few unwanted glares from the students to my right. Blushing, I look back down at Blaine's hand on my wrist, closing my eyes and sighing as I feel his thumb soothingly rub along my skin still.

"Thank you. I try."

"You're effortlessly beautiful, so I don't see why you have to."

Woah, what?

Before I can reply, the bell rings. Of course it does. I want to say something...anything, but before I know it, the teacher is pulling him to the front of the class to explain to him the curriculum for this semester.

Feeling a little light headed and giddy, I gather up my books and slowly make my way out of the classroom, trying to avoid being knocked over by the parade of students.

"Bye, Kurt," I hear someone say. I turn around and see Blaine standing there, smiling widely and...winking?...while he pays absolutely no attention to the teacher.

A blind man could probably tell that I was his main focus as I walked out of the classroom.

This makes me smile even wider as I caught up to Mercedes.

–

I have yet to tell Mercedes about the Anderson boy.

It doesn't escape my mind, no not at all. Actually, it was probably the highlight of my day. Week. Year, even. I can just tell that she'll go ballistic, probably even adding her two cents about how _'Kurt Hummel, you should not be crushing on some boy who apparently crushed his own parents. His _parents,_ Kurt.'_

So, yeah, it's probably expected to see how wide her eyes get when Blaine suddenly comes up behind me as I find my books in my locker, leaning against the one beside mine and smiling broadly enough.

"I've been looking for you all day,_" _he says with his usual cocky grin, turning to eye up Mercedes for some reason. "Who's this?"

I cough slightly. He's been looking for me all day? Why does this make me smile so widely?

"Oh, this is Mercedes. Mercedes, uh, this is Blaine, uh, Anderson," I say, side eying her and seeing the look of shock on her face.

"Yes, I am Blaine uh Anderson," he laughs, rolling his eyes and patting her on the shoulder. A pat on the shoulder? Is he my dad?

"Oh shut up," I roll my eyes, laughing quietly, "I wasn't expecting you to follow me around like some sort of lost puppy."

I can tell Mercedes is feeling awkward. That makes me feel bad, but I pray to whatever deity there is that she at least gives Blaine a chance.

"Yeah, hi," she waves. The wave isn't too friendly, and neither is her tone of voice. "So, Kurt, how did...uh...how did you two meet?" She asks. She's giving me that look that's a cross between annoyed and confused and maybe even a little apprehensive.

"Well, you see, in first period, Kurt totally was checking me out, but to be honest, I was definitely checking him out too, and anyways, he made me sit by him then he wouldn't shut up the whole hour."

I roll my eyes and laugh. "I think you have that backwards, Blaine."

Mercedes just looks confused. I look at her and give her a sad smile accompanied with a shrug.

"So, hey, I've got to get to class I guess, but I'll see you later, right?"

He's talking to me. I look back over and I see his huge smile. It's infectious, apparently, because I smile back just as wide and with as much enthusiasm I reply with a, "Definitely."

Suddenly, he's grabbing my wrist like he did earlier and pulling me into a hug. Wow. Maybe I shouldn't be such an idiot and actually try hug him back, but that proves hard when I feel like I'm jelly under his touch. Wow, am I really this pathetic? Whatever, I'm trying to contain my squeal, but I think I just end up looking like a smiling baboon, but obviously Blaine doesn't mind. Then, as soon as he came, he left, disappearing into the herd of students rushing along the hallways.

"Kurt Hummel you better explain your self right this minute because I'm hella confused."

Oh right. Mercedes is still here and she's confused and angry.

"That's Blaine," I smile.

"No freaking duh."

"He's nice."

"He's a _delinquent_, Kurt."

I roll my eyes. Of course she'd be fighting me on this. "He's sweet. He's nice. He's funny, and I like him."

"You must like him pretty damn much from that dorky smile on your face, boy."

"He told me I was beautiful." It sounds like I'm gushing, and I probably am. I've wanted to tell someone all day that a boy thought I was beautiful. _Blaine Anderson_ thought I was beautiful.

"Honey, have you heard about why he transferred here? He almost killed his teacher! Threw her over the ledge because she gave him a detention."

"Mercedes, do you know if that's true or not?"

By the way she stays silent, I can tell that she obviously didn't look into this rumor. I just can't imagine Blaine being so violent now that I met him.

"I don't want you to get hurt, Kurt. He just...he doesn't seem trustworthy."

"If we based everything off of appearances then a lot of things would be different, wouldn't they? Maybe you should keep that in mind."

I slammed my locker and walked off a little more irritated than I should be to fourth period, leaving Mercedes behind with the dust from my feet.


	2. Chapter 2

Aaaand here's chapter two because my internet is still down.

You should review and follow me on tumblr at **wendlabergmangabor**and all that jazz. It's totally worth it. This chapter is written from Blaine's point of view as well. I'm writing from both their points of views because I can. Tbh this whole story is just kinda the byproduct of me trying to practice more with writing in first person rather third person omniscient or limited ya knoow. So yeah thank you now read, loves.

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The rest of the day just went on as a huge blur.

I don't remember doing anything besides sleeping in all of my classes. The most I really participated in was looking for a certain blue-eyed boy every time I walked into the class room, but sadly I found that we only shared first period together. I didn't really see any use in trying at that point and my teachers didn't mind – they actually looked like they _preferred_ it – when I would rest my head on the desk and fall asleep rather than pay attention and listen to their boring lectures on history or math or some other useless subject, because when was I ever going to use this in real life?

So here I stand in last period before a lab table, flames askew around the room as students frantically try to put it out before me. I stand back some, watching the flames with a bored expression, secretely enjoying how flustered everyone is. They all look like damn fools.

"_Mister Anderson,_" Mrs. Campbell – or was it Mrs. Corswell? – screeched above the chaos of the students, "I cannot _believe _you did this. Principal's office, _now_. Take your things, because I don't believe you'll be coming back," she growls out.

I roll my eyes, grabbing my satchel and throwing it over my shoulder as the nosy kids of my final period watch me walk out with amused eyes. Whatever. They're all losers anyways.

As I walk into the hallway, I suddenly realize that I have absolutely no idea where the principal's office is. I don't really feel like going back in that classroom to ask Miss PMS where the office was, so I figured it'd just be best to roam around for a bit. Maybe I'll find it if I'm really unlucky enough.

Clicking my tongue against my teeth, I round the corner and hear the steady hum of voices. Furrowing my eyebrows, I duck my head into the narrow doorway and find myself looking in on a class of some sort singing Lady Gaga's "Born This Way" and I roll my eyes at how incredibly cliché the tune sounds as the club sings it with energy and _hope_. It's like fucking _High School Musical_ in there.

"No, _no, _Finn. The step is right left back jump twirl," an annoying girl with an obnoxious voice and big nose yells with a shrill voice at some tall kid who looks like he's drooling a bit. I'm guessing his name is Finn.

"Rachel, stop yelling at the boy. Hot damn child, not everyone can get the steps on the first time anyways," says that black girl I met earlier. Shit, what was her name? It was like Ferrari or Dodge Ram or some sort of car or something. I don't think she liked me too much, but hey, most people don't. Let's be truthful, though, if anyone was in the presence of Kurt Hummel, then it'd be hard to focus on another person.

"Mercedes, I'm simply giving Finn some constructive criticism," Oh, is that what it's called now? This girl just seems jealous because his arm is around blondie, "and he should be happy that I care enough to critic his performance. It'll only help him get better."

This girl's going to get punched in the mouth, I swear. Where's the teacher even at?

Oh, he's in the corner talking with some Indian looking guy. Wait, that's the principal. They seem to be in deep conversation, keeping their voices low, even though it's obvious that the teacher is completely disagreeing with whatever Comb-over is saying.

Suddenly I'm looking up, though, when I hear a melodic voice I've been craving to hear all day call out, "Blaine?"

I smile a huge grin, because it's really hard to _not _smile when I'm around this boy. "Hey, Kurt," I say quietly, looking around the room at the oncoming stares as I walk further into the classroom. "I was just, uh, heading to the principal's office. I literally have no idea where it is, though."

"Blaine, already? It's your first day of school," Kurt sighs, cocking his hip and only making my smile grow wider – if that's even possible.

"Trust me, I don't _want_ to get in trouble. It just finds me," I shrug, looking around the room and taking in the sights of the rest of the students in this classroom. They're all staring at me as if I were some alien from a different planet, some even grimacing at the thought of being in the same area as me.

"Ah, yes, Mr. Anderson," the principal guy says as he walks closer to me. This guy reeks of chipotle and dog food and his accent is ridiculous, "I've heard about you, young man. You were supposed to see me this morning as well."

"I got, uh, lost. Didn't I say that I don't know where your office is?"

I look over at Kurt and he's trying to hide his smile in his hand.

"Oh, yes, well, true as that may be, you should have asked one of your fellow students to accompany you."

"All of the kids here are assholes-"

"Language, Mr. Anderson,"

"-except for a select few, and anyways, the damage is done. What were we even going to discuss? I found all of my classes on my own, you know. Those meetings are completely pointless."

Principal looks me over, obviously contemplating something in his mind as the room is dead silent. I let out a dramatic sigh and look over to Kurt who just simply rolls his eyes with an amused smile. Okay, so maybe I'm being a little bit of a drama queen or whatever, but I guess I'm just tired of having the same meetings and talks with nameless principals from different schools that I've attended over the last few years. I can make it on my own.

"William, I think I found a way to kill two birds with one stone."

"Wouldn't that be really messy?" says a quiet voice in the background. It's from some ditzy blonde cheerleader who looks confused as a Latina in the same uniform pats her on the shoulder and whispers something in her ear. I laugh loudly.

The teacher scratches his scalp – how does he do that without getting his hand stuck in the massive amount of gel? – and looks over curiously at Principal, "Please enlighten me," he says tiredly as he rolls his eyes.

"What if Mr. Anderson joined your Glee Club?"

And just with that one sentence, the entire room burst into a frenzy of shouts as nearly the entire club protested. Wow, I didn't think I was _that _unliked.

"Mr. Schue, you cannot let this-"

"He'll kill us all!"

"This – this _delinquent-"_

"He probably can't even sing!"

"He thinks this is just a joke,"

"I want to actually _win _ Nationals,"

"C'mon, he looks like Danny Zuko!"

I've never heard that Danny Zuko comment before and that caused me to laugh.

"Guys, guys, calm down!" The teacher – Mr. Schue, I'm presuming, – screams, "Figgins, are you sure this is such a good idea?"

I'm just standing here in the doorway, finding myself in this awkward situation in which I don't really have the option of getting out of. I look around the room quickly, finding the rows of chairs and swiftly moving over to sit down in the back row, safely away from all of these _lunatics_.

"Think of it, William! You helped Mr. Puckerman immensely once he joined Glee Club. Imagine what you could do for Mr. Anderson," Principal aka Figgins tells Mr. Schue.

"Thanks you guys. This conversation really makes my first day of school feel special." I say, immediately followed by an awkward silence. Everyone's looking at me as I roll my eyes and slouch back into my seat. It's not like I care what these people think of me. Except, well, Kurt, but I'm pretty sure that Kurt just thinks this whole thing is amusing.

"Mr. Schuester and Principal Figgins, if I may," the annoying girl named Rachel says, walking over towards the two adults and immediately beginning her rant on whatever it is that no one's listening to. Suddenly, half of the club joins her as they bombard the teachers about my joining.

"Ignore them. We're all just stressed about Nationals," a voice says next to me. I can tell that it belongs to Kurt without even looking, but I still turn to face his beautiful face and I can't help but let out a large grin even though I feel like complete and utter shit right now.

"Your friends are assholes, you know," I say, shrugging slightly.

"They can be sometimes. Don't take it personally. They don't really know you and they all think you slaughter innocent people."

Okay, that makes me laugh a lot.

"Of course they do," I roll my eyes and say, sighing before looking down and grabbing Kurt's wrist gently in my hand. I don't know why I do it, I just like touching him. There's something really intimate about it that I enjoy. Intimacy isn't exactly my thing, but for Kurt I feel things I've never felt before about a person. It's a crazy aspect, really, because I met this boy earlier today but I can already feel myself falling for his gorgeous blue eyes. I think about him constantly and always wonder what he's doing. Maybe it's just a crush, but really, who knows?

I love the way he blushes once I touch his wrist.

"At least I know one person wont throw a fit if I join this stupid club," I say.

Kurt laughs, a beautiful sound that I seriously think about recording to use for my ringtone or something, "It's not stupid. It's actually really fun, you know. They'll come around once they realize what a sweet guy you are."

He's poking fun at me and I scoff, "Me? Blaine Anderson? Sweet? Oh, Kurt Hummel, you naïve little boy. Don't you know that I steal cars and punch puppies?" I joke, heart thumping wildly as Kurt laughs once more.

He's about to say something, but suddenly we're being cut off by Figgins. Oh right, we're still at school. In front of all of these people. In Glee Club.

God, what was I doing here?

"Mr. Anderson, Mr. Schuester here has agreed to let you into his club. You will stay in it and perform with the group at Nationals. Do not cause trouble, young man. Think of this as probation."

He wags his bony finger at me, causing me to roll my eyes obviously before he swiftly and quickly walks out of the room.

"Alright, guys, you heard Figgins. Sit down and we'll begin today's lesson."

All the kids come to sit around Kurt and me. They all look pissed for some reason. Jesus, it's not like I'm Satan himself joining the club. Some of them notice the way I'm holding Kurt's wrist – that of which I refuse to let go of, even if we are in public – and give him an odd glance. Kurt simply shrugs and faces forward, obviously ignoring all of the pressing questions that some of them are asking him.

God, he's flawless.

Mr. Schue claps his hands together before letting his eyes roam over the students. His eyes meet mine and he coughs awkwardly, rubbing his hands on the legs of his pants as he asks, "Blaine, do you, uh, do you have any songs that you could possibly audition with?"

Before I can answer, the Latina chick from earlier pipes up, "Can he even sing?"

I look over at Kurt and smirk as Mr. Schue simply shrugs. Cocking his eyebrows up, Kurt looks at me curiously as I let go of his wrist and make my way to the front of the room.

"Actually, I do," I say, looking over and smiling once I see the piano in the corner of the room. I can hear all of their jaws dropping as I sit myself down in front of the instrument, snickering as I hear a voice in the background whisper, "Does he even know what that is?"

I allow my shoulders to relax, looking down at the keys and closing my eyes as I recall the endless hours of practicing and lessons come back to me. I haven't played piano in a few months and I pray I'm not too rusty.

My fingers glide over the keys, and truth be told, I don't even know what I'm playing. A random tune echos throughout the nearly silent room as I suddenly think of a song that doesn't sound to horrible on piano.

"_Your subtleties, they strangle me, I can't explain myself at all,_" I sing out, keeping my eyes trained on the keys and not the audience. I haven't been singing in a while and I feel my voice strain some. Whether that's just my self-consciousness kicking in or I'm really just bad, I don't know.

"_When darkness turns to light, it ends tonight. It ends tonight, just a little insight won't make this right, it's too late to fight, it ends tonight, it ends tonight." _

As I sing the chorus, I look up and raise my eyebrow at the shocked looks and expressions from the now pride-hurt students. It feels really good to be performing again, but it feels even better to see the enormous smile plastered on Kurt's face. He looks proud of _me. _It's honestly the best feeling in the world.

Feeling a little more big headed than I probably should, I sing the next refrain with as much emotion as I can physically and emotionally muster, wanting Kurt to be even more proud of me. Wanting to sound amazing. Wanting to be _good_ at something.

"_Now I'm on my own side, it's better than being on your side. It's my thought when your blind, it's better than I see it through your eyes. All these thoughts locked inside, now you're the first to know.."_

After what seemed like hours, I finished the song. The kids all slowly clapped, too astonished at the fact that,_ hey, the new guy can really sing,_ to make any criticisms like they had before. It felt good- no it felt_ terrific_ to be acknowledged for something other than my 'delinquent ways'. I try not to smile. I try not to show them that their opinions matter to me, but as soon as my eyes land on Kurt's proud and adoring smile, my face lights up.

"Welcome to the club, Blaine."

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Sorry that took so long :s

Song is 'It Ends Tonight' By The All-American Rejects

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